


Lies and truths

by GoForGoals



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-08 22:55:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5516312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoForGoals/pseuds/GoForGoals
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik drives Marco home after BVB's Christmas party, his heart full of sadness and unfulfilled longing. Will Marco sense his despair?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lies and truths

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Blue_Night](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Night/gifts), [funfan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/funfan/gifts).



> My dear readers, this story goes out to all who supported me during this year with hits, kudos and comments. Thank you for following my stories, please don't stop giving me feedback. :-)
> 
> Especially, I want to thank Blue_Night for always being there for me, for beta'ing my stories and for being a real friend; as well as funfan for the intense discussions, for silent understanding and for sharing opinions about my stories. 
> 
> I wish all of you out there a Merry Christmas, may it be a peaceful one for you, your families and friends.

„Thank you for driving me home, Erik,“ Marco says while he slumps down on the passenger seat of his teammate’s car. He shoots Auba a glance because the striker has promised Mo a ride in his new golden varnished Porsche. A Porsche that only has two seats.    
   
„No problem,“ the younger one answers, already starting the engine. „But I’m sorry, the heating of my car doesn’t work properly, I guess it won’t get warm in here. I need to go to a garage after our holidays.“    
   
„Doesn’t matter,“ Marco replies friendly and then he just stares out of the window, watching his beloved home town by night. They have celebrated the team’s Christmas party until midnight, recalling the last season. „Is your knee better?“ the blond eventually asks because he feels the urge to keep the conversation going. It’s weird to sit right next to Erik, to smell his after-shave, to feel his presence, to be _alone_ with him.    
   
„Yeah,“ the younger one replies, „I hope that I can return to team training soon. I miss it.“ He steps onto the gas pedal and turns into the main road, the nightly city passing by.    
   
„I know what you mean,“ Marco sighs, thinking about his own injuries. Sometimes, being a professional football player wasn’t that easy.

They don’t speak for some minutes and Marco tries to decipher what Erik is thinking. The face of his teammate is impassive while he drives through Dortmund, straight into the direction of Marco’s home.    
   
„You know my address, don’t you,“ Marco eventually says, watching Erik closely who only nods, taking exactly the right route. Moments of silence follow until Marco decides to put his finger on it.

„Are you okay, Erik?“ he asks, turning his head to face the defender.  
  
Yet, he doesn’t get an answer.

 

***   

 

Why the hell has Marco asked him of all people to drive him home? The Christmas party had been wonderful, a perfect ending for the first, successful half of the season.

A season he hadn’t taken part in.

Erik swallows when his fears and doubts crawl to the surface, together with his lovesickness.

He has suffered a lot during the last months, and that not only physically, oh no. Yes, his knee has hurt badly oftentimes, the surgery has been straining and the rehab more than demanding. But most of all, he has suffered mentally.    
   
He has missed his teammates, the matches, the training. He has missed Marco.

Marco who has asked him to bring him home because Auba had no space left in his car and all of their other teammates have disappeared miraculously.  
  
￼And now Marco is so close to him. It’s weird to sit right next to him, to smell his after-shave, to feel his presence, to be _alone_ with him.

The midfielder tries to start a conversation but, Erik simply can’t concentrate on the talking, he has his hands full to drive safely and to not freak out because the man he loves is only inches away.

And then, Marco mentions his injury and Erik’s feelings outrun him, all the pain and the ache is there again. He can’t tell him that he is not okay and so he doesn’t say anything, at all, until he parks his car in front of the blond’s house.

 

***

 

„Erik, you didn’t answer my question,“ Marco persists when he turns the engine off. The blond shows no sign that he wants to leave the vehicle, he just stares at Erik, piercingly.

„I’m fine,“ the defender finally croaks out, his hands still clenched around the steering wheel.

„Liar,“ is all that Marco replies. He crosses his arms in front of his chest and Erik wants him to leave and to stay at the same time. Erik starts to freeze, the temperature in his car getting really chilly, now that they aren’t driving anymore.    
   
„I’m just cold,“ the defenders makes another attempt to escape, rubbing his hands against each other. Maybe Marco gets the hint and leaves him alone. But, he only tilts his head to the side and looks at Erik in a strange way.    
   
„I have a warm house,“ he says, „why don’t you come with me for a drink and tell me what’s wrong.“

Shit.

Erik didn't see this coming and he can’t refuse the offer. Maybe his mind could, but his heart clearly can't. He almost stumbles over his own feet while he climbs out of his car, following Marco remote-controlled, over the driveway, to the entrance door, into the house.   
   
He is sitting in the mousetrap. Or rather in the lion’s den?

Marco throws his shoes and his jacket carelessly to the side and Erik copies him, hanging his coat on a hook and placing his sneakers on the floor.

What is he doing?

The blond walks over to his kitchen and comes back with two bottles of coke. He throws one in Erik’s direction who catches it out of a reflex.

„Great!“ Marco says, falling down on his huge sofa. „Take a seat,“ he suggests and Erik hesitantly sits down on the other end of the couch.

„Is it your injury?“ Marco wants to know, sipping from his beverage. His gaze seems to burn Erik alive, the amber eyes under the long eyelashes glued to the young defender.    
   
„Yes,“ Erik replies, thankful that he has finally found an excuse for his strange behavior.    
   
„Liar,“ Marco says for the second time this evening and Erik gulps down his coke, gulps and gulps until he is almost choking.

 

￼***

 

Marco has known for quite a long time that Erik has a crush on him. It is so obvious that even he has noticed it.

At first, he has smiled about the younger one and his open devotion. Then, he has started to see Erik with different eyes.

He is aware that Erik can’t say anything because of their closeness, he knows that he is beating around the bush because he thinks that he can’t tell Marco the truth.

And suddenly Marco is aware that he feels the same for him.  
  
„Erik.“ He says softly, sliding closer, „are you really okay?“

His counterpart finally shakes his head.    

„Is it about your knee?“ Erik shakes his head again and Marco slides another few inches closer. „What is it then?“

Marco sits so close to Erik now that their thighs are touching and it’s a pleasurable feeling although his teammate is so tensed. „Relax,“ he breathes, waiting patiently for Erik to open up.

„It’s...“, Erik stammers, „it’s...“ He takes a deep breath. „It’s you.“

 

*** 

 

Time stands still after his sentence. „It’s you.“

Finally, Erik has said it, finally, there’s no way back anymore. He hopes that a big gap swallows him right here in Marco’s living room, in the mousetrap, the lion’s den. He has ruined everything with just one sentence, making a complete fool out of himself.    
   
„Me?“ he hears Marco saying, his voice raspy and he wonders that the blond isn’t throwing him right out of his house. „What’s your problem with me?“    
   
Oh fuck. He should have known that Marco is a little tease, that he would savor the situation, not letting go of him so easily.

Erik shrugs, embarrassed as hell. He can barely breathe anymore with Marco so near, their legs touching. He even can feel the warmth the blond’s body is radiating. It is too much and too less at the same time.    
   
„I don’t have a problem with you,“ he says, helplessly, „listen, Marco, I really have to go.“

He stands up but, Marco is faster, jumping from the sofa. „Wait.“ The blond grabs his arm, keeping him in place. The touch burns like fire and so does Marco’s gaze when he looks at him, straight into his eyes.

Hell, the whole air is burning.    

￼„What is it then, if not a problem?“ Marco asks, still holding his arm. „Tell me, Erik, please.“ The distance between their faces measures only one or two ridiculous inches anymore. Every breath hurts in Erik’s lungs because he can’t get enough oxygen in his system.    
   
„Nothing,“ he manages to say, trembling like a leaf in the wind - a wind that has its origin in Marco’s mere presence.    
   
„Liar,“ Marco whispers and then, he bridges the last inch between them, comes so close that his mouth touches Erik’s. The brunet’s world shrinks to Marco's lips, his hands and his body within an instant, his gentle tongue making its way into his mouth, licking and sucking and nibbling and stroking.    
   
„Whoa,“ Erik gasps, but Marco claims his lips again and finally, he returns the kiss with a moan, his hands finding their place on Marco’s hips while his tongue is buried deep in the older one’s mouth. Somewhere during their kiss, they fall back on the sofa, Marco’s hands stuck under Erik’s shirt, the brunet laying half on top of him.

They break their heated kiss to catch their breaths but, there can’t be enough air in the whole wide world to make Erik believe his luck. „Is it just for tonight?“ he asks shyly, steeling himself for the answer.

„No,“ Marco breathes and Erik’s heart leaps in bliss.    

„You sure?“ he asks, incredulously. This has to be a dream or an early Christmas present.    

„I am,“ Marco replies, tugging Erik to his feet, reuniting their lips. They stumble through Marco’s house, their tongues entangled in a deep kiss. „Bedroom,“ the blond pants, his hands finding their way under Erik’s garment easily. Marco tears the door open, pulling Erik down to his large and cozy bed. „I need to catch some sleep,“ he pretends while he already loses his shirt.    
   
„Liar,“ Erik whispers and then there are no words needed anymore, the room soon filled with soft moans and hoarse cries, telling nothing more than: the truth.


End file.
